


Tremor

by dango96



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21855979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dango96/pseuds/dango96
Summary: Seteth enjoys a night of passion — with none other than the rough, uncouth mercenary man that seems to ceaselessly plague his thoughts.
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner/Seteth
Comments: 16
Kudos: 236





	Tremor

**Author's Note:**

> I can't seem to stop writing Seteth getting pounded. Or stop writing him having a lot of kinky fantasies about it.
> 
> More than a little inspired by [casualbird's wonderful Jeralt/Seteth content](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857505/chapters/49578548).

“G— _Goddess,_ Jeralt.”

> For all that Byleth had been a thorn in Seteth’s side, her father had turned out to be doubly, triply so. Uncouth, unforthcoming, and unwilling to do proper paperwork — in short, the sort of person that Seteth absolutely despised.
> 
> And yet. _And yet._

“That’s right, Seteth. Keep those legs spread for me, just like that. What do you want?”

> Despite his flaws, Jeralt just _had_ to be so infuriatingly, maddeningly _attractive_. And of _course_ his office had to be so close, and of _course_ Seteth had to be the one in charge of helping him back into his duties as the captain of the Knights of Seiros, meaning they spent far too much time in close proximity.
> 
> And if there was one thing Jeralt was above all else, it was _perceptive._ Always watchful, always wary. A necessity, for living as a mercenary, but for Seteth, it only complicated things.

“I…” Seteth’s throat suddenly felt maddeningly dry. He stared at the wall in front of him as if it might provide answers, his legs trembling from holding them open wide, bent forward at the waist and propped against the wall with his arms. Waiting, agonizingly exposed, to be fucked.

> It meant that when Jeralt leaned over him and Seteth _shivered,_ Jeralt noticed. When Seteth couldn’t help but draw in a whiff of his scent — masculine sweat mixed with the clean, vaguely floral aroma of soap — Jeralt noticed it.
> 
> When he shifted his legs uncomfortably to try and hide his erection under the folds of his robes, Jeralt knew. And that was when he got up from his seat, locked the door, grumbled something about how it’d been a while, then dragged a very, very confused Seteth into their first, heated kiss.

“Clamming up on me, now?” Jeralt chuckled, and Seteth grit his teeth in irritation. “Careful, I might get impatient and walk off to take care of this myself…”

> Oh, how Seteth wanted to hate him. Wanted to hate his stubble, his smirk, his pretty brown eyes. Wanted to loathe the way those muscular arms wrapped around him on lonely nights, the way Jeralt’s cock dragged against his prostate just right.
> 
> Seteth wanted to hate how much he wanted it. He wanted to hate that this had become a bi–weekly occurrence — that Jeralt would come in just after the dinner hour, snuff out a couple of candles, and insist that Seteth took a ‘break’.

“I want…” Seteth forced the words out, closing his eyes, feeling himself flush deeply with shame. His thighs burned and his member ached, heavy and hard as it bobbed in the air. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

> But he couldn’t. Couldn’t hate him, couldn’t hate this.
> 
> After all, Seteth loved this, yearned for this — and nursed forbidden feelings in his heart, doomed to never be spoken, yet still lingering in the tremble of his hands whenever Jeralt kissed him.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jeralt growled, pressing the slick head of his cock to Seteth’s well–prepared entrance, giving him a second to prepare before thrusting in.

Seteth groaned louder than he intended, hastily covering his mouth with a hand. They were well into the evening hours at this point, but they were still in his office — and there was no telling who might walk by and overhear the sounds of their coupling, were he not discreet.

But _oh,_ it always felt so _good._ Jeralt was long and girthy, bigger than anything he’d had or thought he was capable of taking in the past, but the mercenary always took his sweet time making sure Seteth was prepared first. The only thing remotely close to pain he felt was a pleasant, aching stretch as Jeralt worked him open on small, tight thrusts.

By the time Jeralt’s hips pressed flush to his own, Seteth was shaking. The man’s large size meant that he could feel every inch against his sensitive insides, spread tight around him like a sleeve. It was almost too much.

“Geez, Set—” He couldn’t say he loved the nickname, but from Jeralt — goddess, right now Jeralt could call him just about anything. “Some days, you feel just like a virgin...”

He couldn’t see much of Jeralt in this position, much of anything other than the wall. But the shiver in his voice made Seteth rock hard, knowing his partner was getting off on the feeling of _him_ — his tight, twitching hole, stuffed full of cock and still wanting more.

Sinful. Improper. Absolutely profane, and beyond humiliating. Completely inappropriate for a man of his station. He could come up with a thousand words for how it _should_ have felt to be used in this way, but none to properly describe the sensation of Jeralt starting to fuck into him.

Ah, yes — that was the word, he realized distantly. _Pounded._

“Please,” Seteth groaned, as Jeralt’s pace picked up from a lazy fuck to a steadier rhythm. He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, at this point — he just wanted more, more, more.

“You’re real horny today,” Jeralt chuckled, breathless. Seteth could hear the easy smile in his voice, and struggled not to lose his mind when the man adjusted the angle just _so_ — every wet, pounding thrust now sliding firm against his prostate.

“Goddess,” Seteth swore, biting his own sleeve to muffle his cries. Yes, this. This was what he wanted, was craving so badly, and of course Jeralt knew exactly how to give it to him. Now his legs were shaking and twitching, his entire body pushing back to meet every thrust, insatiable in his need.

“You gonna come for me already?”

The deep rumble of his voice made Seteth shiver. Oh, and he _was_ close, too — Jeralt had spent far too long teasing and preparing him, and it left him teetering right next to that precipice, his entire body desperately thrumming with pleasure. A few strokes to his neglected cock, and it would be over.

But Jeralt kept him balancing on that ledge, driving into him relentlessly, blunt nails digging into his pale hips. He could not hope to restrain his moans now, only to stifle them the best he could.

“Here, let me get a look at you…”

Suddenly, Jeralt stopped, drawing out and leaving him feeling maddeningly empty — just long enough to grab Seteth’s shoulders, turning him around so that his back was to the wall. Then he grabbed Seteth’s legs and _lifted_ him with hardly any trouble at all, propping him against the cool stone, holding him by his hips.

Seteth cried out as Jeralt’s cock slid back in at the new angle, forcing it deeper and curving slightly towards his belly, once again nestling right up against his most sensitive spot. Jeralt claimed he wanted to look at him, but Seteth could only imagine what a mess he appeared to be at this moment — red–faced and half–clothed, miserably hard despite being untouched, stuffed full and trembling.

“Yeah, that’s it…” Jeralt flashed him a lazy smile, eyes half–lidded — if not for the flush on his cheeks, you’d hardly be able to tell he’d been exerting himself at all. He held himself there for a moment, just letting Seteth feel every inch of him. “Just like that. You look amazing, Set. Look how full you are. You take me so good...”

Seteth felt his face burning with humiliation and pleasure in equal parts. Yet another thing to loathe about Jeralt; he was blunt, honest, and had no shortage of praises when it came to the bedroom. How could such a gruff, infuriating man be so _kind?_

“Please,” he found himself begging again, strained and breathless. His muscles were tense, his cock aching for release. “I… I need it.”

“Yeah,” Jeralt rumbled softly, shifting his hands slightly to get a better grip, rocking out halfway and then back in with an easy slide. The stimulation was enough to nearly make Seteth sob. “I know you do, sweetheart.”

Slowly, he could feel himself surrendering. His pride, his shame — none of these things had a place here. He became conscious of little other than the hot flesh against and inside of him, the sweat dripping down his forehead and the burn of his thighs held apart, the feeling of fullness.

Seteth leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, gasping as Jeralt once more began to fuck into him. There it was again — that steady, electric friction against his prostate, never stopping, the feeling he’d been craving every day since the first time they’d done this, the aching need for more, more, more, more —

With an abrupt jerk of his hips and an entirely–too–loud shout, Seteth came untouched; he shuddered and writhed, rolling himself forward, riding out the pleasure. Hot cum spilled over not only Jeralt’s chest but his own, making a mess of his robes, but in that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Jeralt gripped him harder, quickening his pace, chasing his own pleasure. He only dared get rough when he was close, and oh, Seteth loved the noises he made — groans and gasps, husky and raw, louder and louder until Jeralt _slammed_ into him and began to throb.

“ _Goddess,_ ” Seteth blasphemed, coming down from his orgasm only to feel Jeralt releasing deep inside, squirming on the fat cock seated immovably in him.

Here was, most shamefully, the part that he loved the most. Jeralt always came _hard,_ filling him up, shooting deep. He never pulled out until he was done, until Seteth took every last drop he had to offer.

Hot, wet, and sticky. Seteth should have found it disgusting, the way it leaked out of his abused hole when he was finally done. Instead, he found it unbearably arousing. He wished to be defiled in such a way the entire night through, until he was stuffed full of cum.

Perhaps Jeralt could bring his band of mercenary men, and —

No, no, _no._ Seteth’s face screwed up and burned bright red as Jeralt helped him back onto his feet, his knees wobbling. What was he thinking? He was a holy man, for Sothis’s sake!

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” Jeralt said suddenly, smirking knowingly at him. Seteth cursed himself inwardly for his body’s indiscretions.

“Nevermind it,” he mumbled in reply, pointlessly trying to straighten his robes even if they were soiled. “Just a passing thought.”

“Well,” Jeralt murmured, and suddenly he’d closed the distance between them — Seteth shivered at the brush of stubble against his lips, the warmth of his breath and his skin. “If you feel like sharing, I’m all ears.”

This man would surely be the death of him.

Seteth let himself indulge, regardless, turning his head to fit their lips flush for a moment. Jeralt’s mouth was hot and wanting, and he sighed, relaxing into the sensation.

“Perhaps,” he breathed softly, hands trembling against Jeralt's shoulders, “another time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed this work!


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